


Life Gets Your Dearest Friend

by SarahWritesThings



Series: Five Times Tony Met His Daughter (and One Time He Didn't) [3]
Category: NCIS
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s11e02 Past Present and Future, Reunion, season 12 au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27502117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahWritesThings/pseuds/SarahWritesThings
Summary: Following Sergei Mishnev's attack on Gibbs and McGee, Ziva's reentry into their world sends everybody reeling. But it was never going to be a smooth landing.
Relationships: Anthony DiNozzo & Timothy McGee, Ziva David & Jethro Gibbs, Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Series: Five Times Tony Met His Daughter (and One Time He Didn't) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959589
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	1. Saturday, September 27th, 2014 - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets the surprise of his life, and on a day he wasn't even meant to be in the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay here's the deal.
> 
> I will never _not_ be mad about the way the NCIS writers handled Ziva's departure and Tali's existence. You may ask, "why?". And I'll tell you why. You cannot tell me that my girl, Ziva David, would stand idly by while her friends are being targeted by a dude fueled by rage at Ari's death. You know, the death that actually Ziva herself was responsible for? And there is no way she didn't know what was going on. It was established in "Family First" that Ziva and Orli had regular contact when she was back in Israel. And I'm gonna go on a limb and say Orli would have told her that her _family_ was being targeted by a terrorist.
> 
> But yeah I know that this version of events couldn't have happened because Cote de Pablo left the show, but maybe stop making every villain somehow related to Ziva's past? Did they ever think of that?
> 
> So yes, I am salty, and when I'm salty, I'm fueled to write.
> 
> As a funny side point, every other fic in this series is a version of this one where I was trying to mentally rewrite a better storyline. And then I started to grow fond of some of them, and scenes appeared in my head. And voila, you have a bunch of stories that I greatly enjoy writing. Hope you enjoy reading!

Jogging up the stairs, Tony downed the last of his coffee, throwing the empty cup into his own trashcan with impressive accuracy.

Just his luck, the first weekend in months that they had off, and he had to come into the office to finish paperwork. Of course, it was entirely his own fault, as HR had delivered the packet weeks ago, and he had been ignoring it ever since.

Either way, Tony was almost free. He could practically feel the cold beer that would soon be in his hand, perhaps paired with a classic or whatever game he could find on TV.

He bounded down the winding hallways, finally feeling stress-free after the recent slew of difficult cases. It was a sentiment he saw on the face of everyone he passed, as they smiled to each other. Even with the weekend crew working as normal, the building seemed far emptier than normal.

His brain conjured the image of the building, naturally in cartoon form, reclining on a lounger and enjoying a nice quiet weekend. He chuckled until he was distracted by a far-off conversation, echoing around the next corner.

Tony was surprised to hear Vance's voice, as he normally spent the weekends with his kids, but it seemed like the Director was in a good mood. There was a certain, teasing tone to his voice that was rarely heard in the office.

"You know, if you ever come back to the States, I'll hire you back in a heartbeat."

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm not sure everyone would be happy to work with me again."

He knew that voice.

Even as the rational, far more practical part of his brain reminded him that she was on the other world, nowhere near D.C. and certainly not the Naval Yard, the desperately hopeful voice insisted that he _knew_ that voice.

Sure enough, Tony rounded the corner, and he laid eyes on the owner.

_Ziva._

She was there. After a year, she was standing directly in his path, her gorgeous face light up as she grinned at Director Vance. Her hair was loose and curly, exactly as he last saw it.

In hindsight it probably wasn't the smartest idea, but Tony couldn't help but move towards her, feeling that indescribable draw that was so _her_. 

At the sound of his footsteps, she turned, the smile falling off her face as her mouth fell open in an 'Oh'.

In a moment, he had enveloped her his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. For a heart-wrenching moment, she simply froze, wrapped in him. But eventually shifted, bringing up her arms to hug him back. He could feel the warmth of her body radiating through him.

"You're here….I can't believe it." He pulled away, one hand brushing a few strands of hair out of her face, while the other stayed firmly on her waist. "You came back..."

But Ziva didn't meet his eyes, instead staying focused on his shoulder.

Vance spoke up, breaking the slight tension, "Ziva’s been able to provide us with some excellent intelligence.”

Tony whipped his head around in surprise, having pretty much forgotten that the Director was there. "Really? About what?”

Ziva took a determined step back from him, sighing heavily, "it is a long story."

"Well, you can tell it to me over lunch," Tony grinned. He gestured with the papers in his hand, "I just have to drop this off to Delores."

Ziva seemed to struggle with this proposal, stuttering slightly as she tried to formulate a response. She glanced at Vance, prompting him to place a gentle hand on her arm.

"You have the conference room as long as you need it," he told her.

She nodded resolutely, seemingly steeling her nerves as she turned to Tony, determinately watching him.

"Will you meet me there?"

There wasn't even a question. He would follow her anywhere.

"Give me two minutes."

As much as he'd rather never let Ziva out of his sight again, he forced himself to walk past her, hurrying down the hallway.

Delores greeted him with a smile when he knocked on her door. He handed over his paperwork, thanking her profusely and doing his best to appear at ease and not-at-all desperate to leave as soon as possible. After he promised to be better with the next round of forms, he managed to peel away, waving his farewell as he rounded the corner.

But when he was alone, Tony stopped to lean his head against the wall. He tried to control his breathing, but his mind was still racing a thousand miles a minute.

Over the last year, he had _dreamed_ about when he would see Ziva again, imagining a million possibilities of how they would reunite. He had pictured her on his doorstep, handing him a Christmas present and asking if she could stay the night. Imagined walking into the NCIS office to find her sitting at her old desk. He had even considered, on more than one occasion, taking the first flight he could find to Tel Aviv and refusing to leave her side ever again.

In another week it would be a full year since he had last seen her, standing on the tarmac, watching him board the plane home. She had been so determined to close herself off to him, to everyone. He had begged, but in the end, Tony had to respect Ziva's decisions. So, he had gotten on the plane and left her behind.

But she was _here_.

Surely her willingness to visit NCIS was a sign that something had changed?

Was it too much to hope that the change could include him?

Tony pushed himself off the wall, feeling a wave of warmth seeping through his chest. The hallways were a blur as he raced through them, trying his best not to knock over the few people he passed by. He pushed open the silver door of the conference room, which thumped against the wall with the force of his enthusiasm.

Ziva was sat across from the door, turned sideways in her chair and her attention on something behind the adjacent chair. She tensed at the sound of his entrance, but didn't look up at him.

Trying not to appear _completely_ desperate to be with her, he approached the table, sliding into a chair on the opposite side from her.

"So?" he asked jovially. “What’s the plan?”

She shifted uncomfortably, with the same nervous energy she had when they were standing in the hallway. "There is someone you should meet."

He glanced around the room, but they were alone. "Who?"

Ziva slowly stood, pushing something around the edge of the table, towards him.

His eyes fell on a stroller, where a baby was fast asleep.

"This is Tali," she said simply.

From the back recess of his mind, a memory floated into his consciousness. The two of them, laughing on the sofa as the _Forrest Gump_ credits rolled.

_“Is there a Forrest Gump Jr. movie?”_

_“You know what, there should be.”_

_She smiled at him, “it was sweet of her to give to give their son his name.”_

_"Oh yeah it's really cute, at least for this generation."_

_“You are a ‘Junior’. You do not want to continue the tradition?”_

_“Nah. The world does not need an 'Anthony DiNozzo the Third'"._

_"Fair enough I suppose, but what about naming you child after someone else?”_

_“Like who?”_

_“Tali.”_

_He placed his hand over hers. "It's a good name."_

Tony blinked wildly, his focusing shifting back and forth between them.

"You had a baby?" he asked.

"She is just over three months old."

Years ago, Ziva had shown him a few photos of herself as a baby. This one looked like a photocopy, but her dusting of hair seemed lighter.

He could do the math himself, but the terrified look on Ziva's face confirmed it all.

This was _his_ baby.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She pulled a new chair out, so she could sit down next to him. She began to rub her hands over her thighs. "I don't know... I was scared and lonely, and I just couldn't."

"Then why?"

Her forehead creased in confusion, "why what?"

Tony's hand flew around, indicating their surroundings. "Why did you come back? To NCIS. You fly across the world with the child I didn't know existed, and yet your first stop is the Director's office?"

She retreated slightly, her arms crossing over her chest. “I know important information about an NCIS suspect. I needed to speak with Director Vance before I dealt with…. anything personal."

"I think this is a little more than personal." He felt a flare of anger consume his chest and he pushed away from the table, feeling the need to move.

“Tony-”

"Just tell me, did you ever plan on letting me know we have a child together?”

Ziva pressed her lips together in a tight line, evidentially considering her response. When his back was turned, he heard her utter the faintest, "I don't know."

Tony felt like he had been punched in the chest repeatedly while running a marathon. He tried to organize his thoughts, but nothing was making any sense. After everything they had been through together…

"I am so sorry, Tony. I should not have kept this from you. You are right to be angry with me."

But the Ziva he knew would never have betrayed him like this.

"You know, it's funny," he spat, spinning on heel to face her. "All this time, I've felt like I left a piece of me in Israel, turns out I was right."

Part of him felt bad, knowing he was responsible for the tears that were very quickly threatening to overflow from Ziva’s eyes, but she had said it herself, he was justifiably angry.

The room was feeling horribly claustrophobic and restricting, even as he moved erratically around the room. His eyes kept falling on the sleeping child.

“You know what, I need to get out of here.”

“Wait-”

She reached for his arm but he pulled it away roughly before she could make contact.

“No. You don't get to make any more decisions for me.”

Ziva looked as if he had slapped her. His venom had obviously shot straight to her heart.

He gave her one last icy look that riveled the worst Gibbs could throw out, then pulled the door open again. There was a slight sob as it swung closed, but Tony let himself be carried away by his confusion and hurt.

He made it out of the Navy Yard in record time, but he didn't dare count how many times he looked back.


	2. Saturday, September 27th, 2014 - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva asks for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I use this as an excuse to read all about babies and their development? Yes. I love tiny humans.

As she stepped out of the taxi, the sudden rush of cool air made her shiver. The true Winter temperatures hadn’t set in yet, but after a year in Israel, her body had obviously forgotten what the D.C. climate was like.

After wrapping her jacket more securely around her, Ziva reached into the back seat to unclip Tali's car-seat and removed their few bags. The driver started to climb out, offering his help, but Ziva waved him away with a smile.

Once she paid for the ride and bid the driver farewell, she watched the car speed off down the road, disappearing around a corner.

A dead weight settled on her chest, so she stayed still, letting her eyes linger on the neighborhood, which was mercifully empty, even though it was the middle of the day.

Ziva took a few deep breaths, hoping to calm her frenzied nerves, but her heart was betraying her brain, rooting her to the spot. If someone saw her standing there, they might assume she was casing the neighborhood to rob it.

As if to remind her how stupid it was to stand around for no reason, Tali fussed a bit in her sleep. Ziva adjusted the blankets around her, letting her be one last distraction from her destination.

From the outside, Gibbs’ house showed no sign of life. She cursed herself silently. If she had just planned ahead, she wouldn't be in this situation, unsure and inevitably unwelcome. But she did not know what else to do.

Thankfully, the door was unlocked, giving her a small wave of comfort at the familiarity of it all, and welcoming her into the warm indoors. She flicked on the entryway light, smiling around at the comfortable brown paneling. She traipsed through to the living room, which was nearly identical as when she had last seen it, with an empty couch and a large box of case files perched on the coffee table.

They could always count on Gibbs to always stay the same, right down to the faint light emanating from the basement door, which was slightly ajar.

Carefully, she placed Tali on the dining room table, hoping she would keep dozing, as she had in the taxi. As much as she wanted to sink into the sofa and rest as well, she knew she had to speak with Gibbs first.

So she crept across the room silently, trying her best not to disturb Tali, but the basement door creaked slightly as she pulled it open.

And she froze.

In this very spot, nearly a decade before, Ziva had hidden while Gibbs had confronted Ari. This is where she pulled the trigger. This is where she killed her brother and started it all.

The beginning of the end.

“You plan on standing there all night or are you going to come say hello?”

Gibbs’ voice made her jump, and she heard him chuckle softly. She took another step forward, allowing herself to look down on her old boss and, of course, his latest boat.

He grinned at her, “Ziver."

She forced her legs to carry her down the steps, her mouth suddenly too dry to form a response.

Gibbs met her at the bottom of the stairs, pulling her into a tight hug. “It's good to see you."

She reveled in his comfort, letting herself appreciate how much she had missed him. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered into his chest.

He pulled away, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“I heard about the helicopter crash,” she supplied.

In true Gibbs fashion, he did not waste time on small talk. "I was starting to wonder if we'd ever see you again."

But, of course, he wasn’t talking about the crash.

Her stomach clenched painfully, even as he gave her another warm smile and a slight pat on the cheek. He turned back to his boat, resuming the sanding he had presumably been working on.

Ziva stayed where she was, feeling like an imposter in the space, even after all the hours she’d spent in the basement.

Eventually Gibbs broke the silence, prompting her with a quiet, “what brings you to D.C.?”

“I needed to speak to Vance, I had… intelligence for him.”

“About?”

“Sergei Mishnev.”

As expected, Gibbs tensed at the name, giving her a sideways glare.

He didn't push for answers, but she felt she owed them to him anyway, as difficult as it was to explain. She continued, “I believe that he is targeting you as revenge for the death of his brother.”

“Who?”

“Ari.”

Now Gibbs stopped his work, his forehead creased as he turned to her.

“They shared a mother, and lived together until Sergei moved to Russia with his father. They reconnected as adults.”

Ziva’s pulse was rising rapidly, making her hands clammy and her shoulders ache as she tried to ignore the anxiety.

“I met him once, not long after I joined Mossad. Ari and I shared an apartment in Tel Aviv. They went out for the night to spend time together. They even invited me, but I had just returned from a mission and was exhausted.”

It felt like all the warmth that had been slowly seeping into her bones had been violently ripped away from her all over again. The walls started to close in, and Ziva let out a small sob.

“I am sorry, Gibbs.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he grunted.

“You are being targeted because of me.”

“You did what you had to do.”

She ran a hand through her hair, tugging painfully on the curls. “But Sergei does not know that.”

“Would you rather he went after you?”

“Yes!”

Gibbs took a step closer, searching her face, almost like he was questioning a witness.

“Why did you really come back?”

“Excuse me?”

“You could have told me this through an email. You could have asked Director Elbaz to contact NCIS for you. But instead, you came yourself.”

Ziva swallowed, trying to soften her dry throat. "I made a mistake.”

"You were pretty sure about it, before.”

There was no bitterness in his voice, but the memories of her abrupt departure ricocheted through her head.

"Things have changed," she choked out.

Gibbs cocked his head at her, silently questioning her meaning.

Ziva blinked at him, trying fruitlessly to hold back her tears. "Rule 28."

_When you need help, ask._

He placed a steady hand on her shoulder. "What do you need?"

Ziva bit her lip, trying to formulate a response and keep some semblance of composure. But before she could, a small cry rang out from upstairs.

Without thinking, she turned on her heel and rushed up the stairs. Footsteps behind her indicated that Gibbs was following, but Ziva ignored him, focusing all her attention on Tali.

Her baby was fusing slightly, squirming and chewing on her fingers. Ziva pulled her out of the car-seat, bouncing her gently while digging through Tali’s bag. She successfully pulled out a bottle one-handed, placing it on the table, before diving in again for the container of formula. But when she extracted the tin, Gibbs plucked it out of her hand, silently retreating to the kitchen.

Ziva sunk into one of the dining chairs, trying to steady herself silently. Her head was still spinning, so she tried to focus on Tali, running a finger gently over her cheeks. Tali looked up at her, babbling adorably, and Ziva found herself responding in soft Hebrew, a habit she started half-way through her pregnancy.

Gibbs returned, handing her a bottle, and she whispered her thanks. He joined her at the table, watching them as they settled in.

They sat in silence, filled only by the baby's suckling sounds as she ate.

Eventually, Ziva forced herself to break the silence, telling him, “her name is Tali.”

He sat back. “Does DiNozzo know?”

She tried to ignore the feeling of tears running down her cheeks, "how do you-?"

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

Ziva gulped, trying to steady her breathing, “yes, I ran into him in the NCIS office.”

“Why'd you wait?" 

She bit her lip, letting the sharp pain focus her thoughts. 

“After I sent Tony back to America, I was...numb. It was months before I had any idea I was pregnant. And after that… time passed too fast. Every day I promised myself that I would call him, then suddenly I went into labor, and she was here.”

He nodded as if they were having the most normal conversation in the world. "You were at NCIS?"

"I had to speak with Director Vance."

Gibbs gave her a look, but there was no judgement.

"Tony is angry with me," she continued.

“DiNozzo’s been a wreck since he came back from Israel. He's tried to hide it, putting on his jokester routine, but he's been lonely."

Loneliness was a feeling Ziva was well acquainted with.

“He will be an incredible father, I know he will be happy, eventually.” 

“What about you?”

"What about me?"

"When do you get to be happy?"

She blinked at him, trying to clear her vision, trying to make him understand, somehow. “I do not have a family, Gibbs. But Tali-” she choked on a sob.

“You have us.”

“I left. I abandoned you all to stay in Israel." 

"It doesn’t matter. Family first."

Tali had finished feeding, so Ziva propped her up on her shoulder, burping her gently. But Gibbs refused to let the subject drop.

"What's your plan now?"

"I do not know."

"Are you going back?"

She shook her head, then shrugged, sending a fresh wave of tears down her face as she was unable to voice her uncertainties.

He watched her for a long time, obviously trying to read her, to try and decipher everything going through her head. But even Ziva had no idea what she was thinking.

He laid a hand on her arm, “c’mon Ziver, you should get some rest, lay down for a bit.”

“You are probably right.” She ran a hand over her face. “I should get a hotel room, probably near the Navy Yard.”

“No need, I’ve got a room.”

“Gibbs, I do not want to impose-”

“Family first," he repeated.

His stare was confident, and Ziva knew that there was no point arguing with him, certainly not when she was so physically and emotionally exhausted.

She nodded, letting him guide her to her feet. He grabbed Tali's car-seat and all their bags, before leading her upstairs to a spare bedroom, which was empty except for a double bed and small dresser. She placed Tali down on the bed, where she happily wiggled and blinked sleepily up at them.

Of course, Ziva had stayed at Gibbs' house plenty of times before, most notably after Somalia, so there was no need for the usual host speech. Gibbs simply placed a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm glad you're here," he whispered.

"I missed you too," she told him.


	3. Saturday, September 27th, 2014 - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony tries drinking away his sorrows, but certain people look for him.

In the past, drinking away his sorrows had never accomplished much, but that certainly didn’t stop Tony from giving it another shot.

He had driven home, but the mental image of a teary Ziva stopped him from making it into his apartment. There were so many memories of her in his space, once happy reminders of her presence and everything they had shared, now felt like a cruel rib of the mess he now found himself in.

So he turned away from his creature comforts and headed to the nearest bar.

In the hours that had passed, Tony had downed far too many beers and lamented the train-wreck his life had become. Meanwhile the bar around him had slowly filled with happy people, all enjoying their weekend.

“Tony! There you are!”

In the dim light of the bar, it took him a moment for his eyes to focus on the figure rushing towards him.

“How did you find me, McGeek?” he slurred.

“Vance called me, asked me to check up on you. He said you were upset, but wouldn’t tell me anything else."

"So, you pinged my phone?"

Tim rolled his eyes dramatically. "No, I went to your apartment. Your car was there but you weren't, and this is the closest bar."

“Ahhh Probie, you’re so grown up.”

“Tony,” he sighed, sliding down into the seat next to him. “Vance was really worried, and I am too.”

Tony snorted, raising his raising his glass in a mock salute. “Nice of the Director to worry.”

Tim gave him a long look, obviously trying to read Tony’s reactions for some indication of his state of mind. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing at all. Just enjoying my Saturday night.”

“Well that’s bullshit,” Tim snorted. “Will you just tell me what happened?”

Tony set back his glass with a bit too much force, earning him a dirty look from the bartender.

He weighed his options. He could stay tight-lipped, keeping the new life developments quiet for as long as possible as he tried to wrap his head around it all, or he could divulge everything and hope _someone_ would tell him what the hell he should do next.

Fueled by far too much alcohol, he dove head first into the second option.

“Ziva’s here.”

As expected, Tim gapped stupidly for a moment, before looking around excitedly. “What, here?”

“No, not _here_ here,” Tony sighed, “she was at NCIS, with Vance. I was turning in some paperwork to HR and ran into them.”

But his friend was still bouncing with joy. “But that’s fantastic! What the hell are you doing drinking alone when Ziva’s back? Did she not want to come out?”

“She has a baby.”

Predictably, this shook off the jubilation. “What? She’s pregnant?”

“Was, she _has_ a baby now.”

“Did she tell you who...?” he trailed off, but Tony recognized the question.

“Yeah, me.”

Tim seemed frozen for a long minute, during which Tony let him stew, sipping at his drink. He finally nudged his glass over, which Tim gratefully accepted.

“Israel?” he asked hollowly.

“Yep.”

“And she didn’t tell you.”

“Nope.”

" _Shit..._ "

Tony couldn't help but laugh at this. "Yeah, that about sums it up."

He rubbed at the condensation on the outside of the glass. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A little girl, named after her sister."

"Wow. So, you and Ziva have a daughter?"

Tim's comment made a new barrage of images flood through his head. Their little family, spending time together, playing together, experiencing life together. But, of course, it was just a fantasy.

"Apparently," he snarled, grabbing his drink back and downing the rest dramatically.

"I get why you're upset."

"Which part? The bit where the love of my life keeps appearing and disappearing on a whim or the fact that we have a child together and she was perfectly content that I didn't know?"

Tim didn't even flinch at Tony's unwitting confession, having spent nearly eight years watching the two of them engage in the most ridiculously drawn-out foreplay the world had ever seen.

Tony reached out an arm to signal for another drink, but Tim pushed it down firmly. "Alright, I think you've had enough alcohol for one night."

He glared, angry at him and Ziva and the whole world. But when Tim didn’t let up in their staring contest, he set his head down on the cool countertop, letting out a string of curses.

Tim reached out to pat him on the back, "let's get you home."

But this thought sent a new wave of panic through Tony, who sat up again.

"No!"

"What?"

"I don't want to go back to my apartment, it's all too messy..."

He got a sympathetic look from his friend, but thankfully Tim didn't ask for clarification for the type of mess Tony was trying to avoid.

"Then come back to my place," he offered. "You can sleep off your hangover and tomorrow we'll play video games and eat pizza."

"That sounds like my college days."

"Exactly."

Tony remembered those days. Countless all-nighters, both due to studying and partying until dawn, spending far too much time in bed with pretty women who giggled far too much at his lame jokes. For years his worst fear had been accidentally getting someone pregnant. Life was truly cruel sometimes.

Tim prodded him in the side, "c'mon, Tony."

"Alright, but only because I want to beat your ass at Mario Kart."

"Deal."

* * *

When they stumbled into McGee's apartment, Tony couldn't help but glance around, taking in the minor changes that had occurred since the last time he had been there. Furniture was moved slightly, odd things moved into more convenient places, the fluffy rug gone from the living room, all undoubtedly to accommodate Delilah's wheelchair with ease.

Knowing Tim, he had made these changes without prompting, instead doing everything he could to make her life just a little bit easier.

 _That_ , Tony thought, _was love._

Sure enough, Tim threw some sweatpants at him, to replace the jeans he had been wearing all day, and told him that he had to call Delilah. Even through the bathroom door he could hear snippets of their conversation. Tim reassuring her that everything was alright, and apologizing for running out on her earlier in the day. Telling her that he planned to spend the rest of the weekend with Tony, just hanging out.

_That was love._

They ordered pizza and flicked on the TV, watching some ridiculous movie about cops in a big city. They laughed at the insane premise and challenged each other to chugging bottles of water, because why not?

By the time they were done, the sun had set and they were illuminated by the screen and the faint streetlight coming through the windows. The alcohol had long since wore off, but Tony found himself feeling it all the same as he played with the label on his water bottle.

"I love her."

"I know you do."

Tony chuckled slightly, the kind of stupid, sad laugh you let out when there was nothing else to do.

"That's probably why it hurts so much. I was ready to drop everything, at any time, to be with her. But she wouldn't let me... she just pushed me away."

Tim's hand found his shoulder, giving him a reassuring pat.

"I have no fucking clue what I'm supposed to do now." Tony buried his head in his hands, the weight of the day catching up with him. "I already let her go once, but now we have a kid-" his voice cracked slightly, "I just don't know..."

“You just have to take it one day at a time.”

“What if she wants to leave again?”

Tim's hand gave him a small shake. “You’ll figure it out, you always do.”

"Any other words of wisdom, McGandalf?"

"Don't screw it up."

Tony laughed, giving Tim a light smack to the back of the head. "Thanks for that."

"Anytime."


	4. Sunday, September 28th, 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva returns to the squad room and meets her replacement.

Ziva woke up, feeling more rested than she had in months, if not years. She yawned widely, stretching out across the comfy bed she was in, her eyes fluttering open to look up at the off-white ceiling. She certainly hadn't slept that well since before Tali was born.

As if zapped by an electric shock, Ziva bolted upright, looking around the room wildly. She recognzied Gibbs' guest room, with its handmade furniture and cosy bedding. She looked next to her, where Tali had been sleeping in the absense of a crib or basinet. But she wasn't there.

She threw herself out of bed, giving one last scan of the room before rushing out the door, it was only when she was halfway down the stairs that she heard Gibbs, talking quietly in the dining room.

"Of course, no one's going to mess with you, not with your parents."

He was sat at the table, coffee in one hand and Tali sat on the table in front of him, in a little high chair. She was watching him closely and babbling along as he talked.

"Hi," Ziva greeted them both as she approached. She ran a hand over Tali’s head steadying herself.

"Mornin', coffee's in the pot if you want some."

"Thank you."

"I heard her stirring when I woke up, I was hoping you'd get some extra sleep, catch up. I remember what it was like having a newborn."

She gave him a soft smile and a pat on the shoulder, "thank you."

"That's what grandpa's are for."

Ziva turned away quickly, using the coffee as a conveient excuse to hide her teary eyes from him. For months it had been just her and Tali...

When she returned to the table, Gibbs was tapping on his phone.

"Texting?" she asked, trying not to laugh.

"When I have to," he grumbled. Snapping his phone shut, he turned to her. "I’ve got to head into the office.”

"You do?"

“Metro PD is taking custody of some evidence, and they need me to sign off on the transfer. You can come with me.”

Ziva nodded idly, playing with Tali’s hand.

“There a problem?” Gibbs asked.

“I do not know if I am ready to explain to everyone…”

“Then don’t. Besides, no one will be there."

"You're not going to let me refuse, are you?"

"Nope."

* * *

They drove to the Navy Yard in silence. Ziva stared out the window, watching the familiar buildings fly by.

In a way, D.C. was not so different from Be'er Sheva. No giant skyscrapers, people milling about the streets, enjoying their day. But instead of smooth, tan stone, the buildings in front of her were built of red bricks and grey walls.

As they approached the Navy Yard, Ziva felt her heart rate quicken. She had promised herself that she would not be drawn back into this world, and yet here she was, visiting for the second time in less than 24 hours.

At the entrance, Gibbs gave a young Marine her name, and a minute later Ziva was handed a visitor's badge. With a jolt, she recognized the old photo, taken of her when she first visited NCIS.

Gibbs chuckled at her expression, "you think they would have at least updated your visitor file when you became a NCIS agent."

Ziva opened her mouth to respond, but found her throat too dry to form words.

She had been so  _ young _ .

After they parked, Ziva busied herself with getting Tali settled into her stroller, grateful for Gibbs’ patience as she procrastinated. But as soon as she straightened up, Gibbs led the way towards the NCIS office. Gibbs pulled her past the visitor’s security check, telling the officer "she's with me", in a gruff voice.

As they approached the elevator, Gibbs glanced over to her. "I’ve got to head down to the lock-up, but you can wait upstairs."

Ziva suspected Gibbs had ulterior motives, letting her to enter the office on her own terms, and she was grateful for it. At her nod, he pressed the elevator button for her and continued down the hall.

The ringing of the bell brought a thousand memories flooded back to her. Morning rides that smelled like coffee. Being trapped for hours with McGee. Arriving after the team rescued her from Somalia. Being trapped for hours with Tony. Delirious laughter after midnight, when Gibbs had finally let them go home. Leaving for what she thought was the last time, having turned in her badge.

As she ascended, Ziva resisted the urge to flick the emergency stop, just for old time’s sake.

When the doors opened, she forced herself to exit, pushing Tali ahead of her. Naturally, she turned right, following the familiar path towards her old desk. The squadroom was empty, a sign of quiet weeks Gibbs had told her about.

At the end of the room, Ziva stopped, staring down at Tony's desk. 

Papers and photos were pinned to the walls around his desk, some showing maps and police sketches. On the computer monitor, a sticky note showed a name and phone number, written in Tony's messy scrawl. It had taken a few years of working with him to learn how to decipher it. But Ziva's attention was pulled to the corner of a paper, poking out from underneath the keyboard. She paused, contemplating whether or not this counted as an invasion of privacy, but she pulled at it, revealing a small photo, with a cluster of pin holes at the top, the edges frayed slightly. 

She recognized it. It had been taken at Abby's Halloween party, two years before. It had been one of the few holidays the team had been able to spend together celebrating, rather than being trapped in the office by a case. 

Just a few weeks later, her father had arrived in the U.S., and everything had fallen apart. But here, frozen in time, they were a family, laughing at something Gibbs had said. Tony, Tim, and herself, all with their widest smiles, Gibbs smirking into his cup. 

Feeling a prickle in her chest, Ziva turned, eyes roaming over the rest of the desks. Tim seemed to have gotten a new mouse, with the old one sitting on the shelf behind his desk beside neatly stacked files. A new frame sat on the surface, showing his girlfriend, Delilah. Gibbs' desk, of course, had not changed.

Her own desk- her  _ old _ desk- was in pristine condition. The surface and shelves behind it were all tidy and organized, just like she had kept it. It almost looked like she had never left. 

_ Almost _ .

A college banner hung on the little wall behind the chair, reading OSH in orange letters.

Ziva let herself settle into her old chair, her fingers playing with a pen she found on the desk. Tali seemed content to play with the little toy attached to her car seat, oblivious to the significance of this new environment.

Inevitably, her attention fell on Tony's desk, and Ziva settled back. The hours she had spent here, throwing jokes across the aisle as they did endless paperwork, only to be interrupted by a call into the field.

She had never expected to miss an office so much.

And then a blonde woman appeared in front of her, her arms full of folders, which she set down on the edge of the desk. "Hi there, can I help you with something?"

"Uh, no, I am fine, thank you." Ziva looked her up and down, noticing the NCIS badge clipped onto her jeans.

The woman blinked at her. "Are you waiting for something?"

"Yes, for Gibbs. He’s down in the evidence lock-up"

"And Gibbs knows you're here?"

Ziva felt a flare of irritation at this interrogation, "yes, of course he does."

The blonde seemed to falter, taking a small step back.

Ziva shook her head, "I am sorry. I do not mean to be rude, I am just...tired."

It was a pathetic excuse, but it was the best she could come up with for this stranger in the moment.

"No, I'm sorry." The woman smiled awkwardly. "It's just, you're sitting at my desk."

"Oh...of course!" Ziva rushed to vacate the desk, feeling extraordinarily stupid that she hadn't put the pieces together.

"It's not a problem! I'm sure you didn't realize.” She extended a hand, her voice far too bright, "Special Agent Ellie Bishop."

_ Her replacement. _

"I am Ziva."

As they touched hands, the blonde seemed to bounce at this. “I thought you looked familiar!”

"I am sorry, have we met?"

"No! I've just read so many of your case reports! You're practically a legend. And the way everybody talks about you!”

Ziva felt her face growing hot, "thank you..."

"But I didn't know about this cutie!" Ellie leaned down and smiled at Tali, who giggled adorably and waved a fist around, the other lodged firmly in her mouth where she chewed on it relentlessly. "What's her name?"

"Tali."

Ellie cooed over the baby, making a few funny faces.

From behind her, Ziva heard Gibbs' approach. "Bishop, I thought I told you to take the weekend off."

She moved quickly to sit at her desk, pulling the stack of files towards here. "I did, Gibbs. I just stopped by to pick up some of my NSA files. Wanted to look through them when I wasn't busy."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "I can always give you more work, if you're that desperate."

"I'll let you know."

Turning to his computer, Gibbs nodded vaguely in her direction. "Did you meet Ziver then?"

"Yes, I did. I can see why everyone's so smitten with her."

Gibbs chuckled, "And you haven't even seen her shoot.”

Ellie nodded excitedly. “How long are you staying?”

Ziva fiddled with the pocket on her coat, trying to avoid eye contact. "I...do not know yet."

"You were in Israel, right? I wouldn't want to make that trip to only stay for a few days."

Thankfully, Gibbs came to her rescue, emerging again from behind his desk. "Bishop, didn't you say you had work to do?"

"Yes! Sorry Boss!"

He touched her elbow, telling her quietly, “I’m ready to go if you are.”

Ziva nodded.

As Gibbs reached out to push Tali’s stroller, Ellie stood and extended a hand to her again.

“If you’re not too busy, I’d love to take you out to lunch, get the dirt on Tony and Tim.”

She seemed so happy at the prospect that Ziva didn’t have the heart to be honest with her.

“That would be nice, I’ll have to let you know.”


	5. Monday, September 29th, 2014 - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mondays suck, but this one sucks even worse, a.k.a., Tony goes to work despite everything, and the rest of the team have no idea what to do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love on this fic! Sorry for the delay, right after Christmas I finally got a job (yay!) and had a busy month of moving states followed by a busy month of starting work.  
> But in the interim I have been thinking through the storyline I have in my head, and, surprise, surprise, things have been tweaked a bit. This makes absolutely no different to you, a reader who has no idea what I had planned, but is super fun for me! :D

The morning had been a bit of an event.

Tony had woken him up early, clattering around the kitchen and insisting on getting ready for work, but Tim had been wary. As they had stayed far away from any alcoholic beverages in the past 24 hours, Tony seemed somewhat less erratic than when Tim had found him in the bar, but there was still a dark glint in his eyes that said he wasn’t _‘over it’_ , like he claimed to be.

When it was clear his concern was falling on deaf ears, Tim had tried Gibbs, hoping their boss could talk some sense into him, but there had been no answer to his desperate calls.

By the time they had climbed into the car, Tony had lapsed into stony silence, which was an even more disconcerting state to witness. Tim had tried to make idle conversation about the progress of cases they had worked and Ohio State’s chances in the next March Madness, but Tony had only given short, succinct responses, if he spoke at all.

Pulling into the Navy Yard parking lot, Tim turned to Tony again, hoping to make a last-ditch effort to talk some sense into his friend, but he faltered at his expression.

Tony stared out the window, his shoulders hunched forward and his jaw locked in concentration. He never looked like this, not even after Kate had died or when Gibbs had been hospitalized.

After a silent beat, Tony

towards him, locking eyes as they considered each other.

"Please don’t, Tim."

"Okay."

They walked inside in silence, both robotically showing their credentials and signing in. In the elevator, Tim checked his phone as an excuse not to look at their reflections in the metallic walls.

But their icy cold was interrupted by the bright ping of the elevator doors sliding open, and the even louder shriek of Ellie.

"They're here!"

"Poltergeist, 1982," Tony deadpanned, stalking to his desk.

Ellie stalled, a look of confusion crossing her face as they passed her.

As he rounded his desk, Tim tried to silently signal to back off, but Ellie was too excited to back off. Gibbs, meanwhile, stared pointedly at his computer screen.

“Oh c’mon guys! I’ve spent the last year hearing all about the mystical _Ziva David_ , and now she’s back and you guys won’t say a word about her?”

Tony stood sharply, causing Ellie’s smile to drop off her face.

But he didn’t make eye contact, instead he grabbed his credentials and weapon out of his desk. “I’m going to get coffee,” he said.

Tim sighed, letting his head drop back as he slouched in his chair. It was certainly going to be a long day, and that was assuming they _didn’t_ get a case.

Ellie seemed determined to invoke a conversation, planting herself in front of Tim’s desk with a huff.

“Is Tony alright?”

“Tony is….stressed.”

“About what? I would have thought Ziva being here would’ve-”

But she trailed off as Tim shot her an annoyed look, the one he had perfected with Sarah, growing up.

“What?” Ellie asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

“It’s complicated.”

“So?”

“It’s a long story and we’ve got work to do.”

Gibbs spoke up, still focused on his monitor. “She’s not going to stop asking.”

So Tim gave in, dragging himself to his feet.

“We’re going down to Abby’s, Boss.”

Ellie blinked, “why?”

“Because I have no clue how to explain this by myself.”

* * *

With Gibbs-like precision, Abby was waiting for them, leaning against her computer desk with a Caf-Pow in hand.

“You’re a little late, McGee.”

He rolled his eyes, “I was trying to convince Tony to take a day off, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

“You should have let me come over yesterday! I could have calmed him down.”

“I don’t think this is something you just _calm down_ about.”

“Alright,” Ellie frowned at them, “what am I missing?”

But Abby ignored the question, “where is he now?”

“Coffee run.”

“And have you heard from her?”

“Not a peep.”

This time, Ellie stepped between them, “you guys need to explain. I thought you all loved Ziva?”

Abby scowled, turning back to her computer and tapping away. “We do, but _Tony_ loves her in a very different way.”

“Okay….?”

Tim reached out for Abby’s Caf-Pow taking a sip, trying to formulate an explanation

“We were all under the impression that Ziva was in Israel _finding herself_ or something,” he said slowly.

“She hasn’t?”

“I don’t know, but that's not the issue.”

Abby snatched her Caw-Pow back, “we haven’t heard a word from her since she left. And you really think the whole _no-contact-with-your-best-friends_ thing would go out the window when you were having a baby.”

Ellie looked back and forth between them. “You didn’t know she was pregnant?”

“Of course not!” Abby snapped.

“But, the baby’s only a few months old, she must have been pregnant when she left, right?”

“Not when she left D.C., that’s for sure. But when Tony left Israel…” Abby trailed off, waving a hand dramatically.

“Tony went to Israel?”

“To make sure she was okay,” Tim supplied. “And, from the little he’s told me, to try and convince her to come back to D.C.”

“Okay, but why is Tony….” but Ellie trailed off and her eyes grew wide. “No….” she whispered.

“Yeah.”

“ _Tony_ is the father?”

“That's what Ziva said.”

Abby turned sharply, smacking Tim on the back of the head. “You said you hadn’t spoken to her!”

“I haven’t!” Tim stepped away, glowering at them both. “Tony told me, after I got him home Saturday night.”

“I can’t believe it,” Ellie mused, letting herself drop onto one of Abby’s lab stools.

Tim patted her on the shoulder, “you can imagine how Tony feels.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Abby supplied, “none of it makes sense. Ziva leaving, coming back, having a baby. We’re just as lost as you are.”

Ellie opened her mouth again, probably to ask more questions, but any further discussion was cut off by Tim's phone ringing.

“ _Gossip time is over, we have a case._ ”

“On it, Boss.”

* * *

Somehow, a difficult case hadn’t helped the mood.

They had spent the morning at Quantico, documenting the scene where a Petty Officer’s house had been ransacked, and trying to find any trace of his missing wife. As the hours passed, they drove back and forth across the city, hoping for some indication of where she might have gone, or where she might have been taken.

To make matters worse, their search ended promptly at 4 o’clock, when the wife had arrived at NCIS to tell them that she hadn’t been kidnapped, just decided to run off with her lover.

“I came as soon as I saw the news,” she explained, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize I would cause such a panic.”

Gibbs had been his usual _understanding_ self. “Maybe next time, leave a note.”

So, when they finally reached the end of the day, mercifully without an ongoing case, they were all relieved.

Gibbs was the first to pack up for the evening, telling them, “enjoy the night off,” while grabbing his things.

But Tony didn’t seem too pleased about his departure. He shot up, hurrying to the Boss’s desk and planting his hands in his pockets.

“You got something to say, DiNozzo?”

He rocked back and forth on his heels for a moment, “I was wondering if I could ask a favor.”

Gibbs looked up at him, but gave him the usual silence.

“Yeah…I was hoping that you could bring the baby to-”

“Nope.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Tony snapped, freezing angrily as he stared at Gibbs.

“I’m not playing intermediary between you two. If you want to see your daughter, you need to man up and talk to Ziva first.”

“Well, I didn’t realize you were the _expert_ on relationships.”

He heard Ellie gasp from across the walkway.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes dangerously. “She’s not thinking straight, DiNozzo, don’t you get that? She's hurting”

Tony rolled his eyes, turning on his heel to grab his bag and stalk out of the squadroom without a word.

Ellie was still gaping at Gibbs.

“I have never seen Tony act like this.”

Gibbs shook his head, “I don’t blame him.”

“He’ll be alright though, right?” She asked, leaning forward desperately in her chair.

“He’s DiNozzo.”

“What does that mean?”

But Gibbs only shrugged.


End file.
